Dubious Ways and Questionable Means
by sodsta
Summary: Cartman wants his Goddamn money! Warnings for violence, non-con frottage, physical restraint, breathplay/suffocation. Both boys are 16


Kyle peered over the top of his comic as the bedroom door flew open. He sighed.

"What do you want, Cartman?"

"I want my money, Kyle," Eric said, frowning as he closed the door behind him. Kyle rolled his eyes. Not this again.

"It's not your money," Kyle replied, going back to his comic. "We had a bet, I won, so the money's mine."

"The bet was unfair. You picked the yellow frog. If you'd picked the green frog I would have won."

Kyle rolled his eyes, not bothering to look up from his comic. "That's kind of what a bet is," he said bluntly. "It's really not my problem if your plan backfired." They'd already had this conversation when Stan had handed over the money earlier and Kyle really wasn't in the mood to have it again.

He heard the creak of floorboards as Eric stepped in closer and couldn't help but feel just a little smug as he caught the look of frustration on Eric's red face. "I want my money, Kyle," Eric said again and this time Kyle ignored him. He turned the page in his comic and raked a mass of messy red curls from his forehead, all in silence.

"Kyle," Eric growled. "Kyle!"

Kyle continued to ignore him, grinning to himself when the fat villain in his comic drowned in his own vat of bull manure. Eric wasn't the most patient of people; hopefully if he ignored him long enough he'd just fuck off.

"Kyle!" Eric shouted, taking a heavy step forward and making the whole room shake. "Dammit Kyle. Don't be such a Goddamn Jew!"

"Shut up, fat ass!" Kyle snapped, slamming his comic shut and throwing it down on the bed. That was the one thing he couldn't ignore and Eric _knew_ that. "Look, the bet was your idea, Cartman. You tried to fix me up and it didn't work. I won fair and square and I'm not giving you the money, so fuck off and stop being a douche."

"Give me the Goddamn money!" Eric squealed, scrunching his eyes up and balling his pudgy hands into fists. Kyle shook his head.

"It's five bucks, Cartman. What do you even need it for?"

"It's _my_ money," Eric replied, eyes still little piggy slits in his huge face.

Kyle smirked. "Actually," he said, smug satisfaction warming him from the inside. "It's _my_ money." He could have actually laughed at the noise Eric made at that. Eric's whole face seemed to go a bright scarlet colour and his brow broke out in droplets of sweat. "So," Kyle said, reaching for his comic again. "I'm kinda busy."

Eric looked about ready to explode, but before it reached the point where steam looked like it might _actually_ burst from his ears, he took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. The redness seemed to drain from his face and he nodded. "Alright, Kyle", he said, sounding very calm and matter-of-fact. "I guess that's fair. You did win the bet, after all, and I suppose I _was_ being a little un-sportsman-like."

Kyle rolled his eyes as he picked up his comic and flicked back to his page. _Finally_. Now maybe Cartman would leave and he could get back to reading in peace.

"Oh hey, I know," said Eric, suddenly sounding very cheerful. "Let's hang out and read comics." Kyle tried to spread out to make sure there was no room for Eric on his bed as he made his way over, but Eric just pushed him out of the way and sat down beside him, leaning over to look at what he was reading. Kyle groaned.

"Cartman," he said, frowning and trying to shuffle over, away from Cartman's huge bulk. "I'm trying to read."

Cartman followed.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. I know," he said, enthusiastically. "Amazing Captain Butt and Doctor Gas. I love those guys."

Kyle kept moving to one side as Cartman followed, until he he'd shuffled into the wall at the end of his bed. "Well, if you wouldn't mind…"

"Oh, sure," said Cartman moving closer and pinning him uncomfortably between wall and blubber. "I'll just read quietly over your shoulder like this."

"Cartman…" Kyle said, exasperatedly, before sighing and giving up. It was clear there was going to be no reasoning with him – there never was – so it would probably be easier to just read. He frowned as he turned the page, trying to ignore Cartman's loud mouth breathing as he read each panel. He'd only made it to the third panel before he felt something moving against his hip and he looked down to find Cartman's hand sliding into his pocket.

"Goddamn it, Cartman," he yelled, throwing his comic down and going for Cartman's hand. He could feel the sweat of Cartman's palm through the denim of his jeans. He made a grab for Eric's chubby wrist but Eric's other hand knocked his out of the way and Kyle felt himself being shoved back against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

"Give me my money, you fucking Jew!" Eric shouted, rummaging around in Kyle's empty pocket. Kyle coughed and reached up to push at Cartman's face, trying to get away from his sweaty grip.

"Get off me, fat ass," Kyle spat, scowling as Eric withdrew his hand from one pocket and fumbled across Kyle's lap for the other. "It's not your money. Get your fat hand…" But before Kyle could finish, Cartman had drawn the arm he had across Kyle's chest back and slammed him back into the wall with a hollow thud. Kyle coughed again and closed his eyes, feeling his head spin slightly.

"Where's the money, Kyle?" Eric asked, leaning forward as he tried to get his hand deeper into Kyle's pocket. Kyle raised his leg for some purchase, pushing against the mattress to try and stand up or turn around, but Cartman's arm against his chest and their close proximity meant he hardly had any room to move.

"I… don't…" he ground out, reaching out with his free hand to try and shift Eric to one side. It didn't work. Eric withdrew his hand from the second pocket and grabbed Kyle's t-shirt, dragging him from the wall and throwing him onto his stomach as he searched the back pockets, but Kyle seized his chance, having landed near the edge of the bed, and flung himself to the floor, flailing wildly on the way down. He landed with a thump loud enough for next door to hear and before he could get up, Eric was on top of him.

"Just give me the money, Kyle," he said, sitting heavily on the back of Kyle's thighs and pinning him with a large hand in the center of his spine. "Just give me the money and I'll let go you."

Kyle could feel his legs throb as the blood tried to force its way along arteries that were being crushed under Eric's weight. "It's five fucking dollars, idiot," he growled, trying not to groan as he struggled to free himself. He tried to push himself up, but Eric's hand on his back kept him effectively pinned.

"Ah ha!" Eric shouted, sounding triumphant. "So you admit you do have it. I knew you wouldn't have spent it. Jews don't spend money."

"Fuck you, fat ass!"

"Where is the money, Kyle?" Eric went on, unfazed. "I need that money."

Kyle could feel his legs going numb and he could tell his cheek had carpet burn. "What the hell for? What can you possibly do with five bucks?"

"Great things, Kyle. Great and terrible things. You don't understand… I need that money. Give it to me, Kyle."

"Ugh, Cartman." Kyle was sure he was going to lose his legs if Eric didn't move soon. He reached back and pinched the back of Eric's thigh as hard as he could, eliciting a high-pitched squeal as Eric rolled gracelessly to the side. Kyle rolled over and was about to stand up and put an end to the stupidity, but before he could even sit, Eric was on him again, throwing himself full-force on top of him and moving to straddle his hips as he held his shoulders against the floor.

"For fuck's sake," Kyle yelled, trying to reach up and push at Eric again, but it was pointless. He squirmed angrily under him, hitting uselessly at his arms and sides until Eric grabbed him by the wrists, gripping too tightly, and held his arms to the floor above his head. Kyle continued to squirm for a while, growling and swearing, until he noticed Eric was just staring at him. Hungrily. In fact, it was the exact same expression Kyle often saw on Eric's face when he was looking at a particularly delicious pizza or candy.

Kyle glared up at him, breathing heavily from the struggle. "What?!" he snapped, wishing Eric would just stop being such an R-tard and leave him alone.

"Is this making you hard, too, Kyle?"

Kyle just stared at him for a moment, then his eyes widened in realisation. "What?" he shouted, struggling again, now with renewed fervour. "No! Dude, gross. Get _off_ me!"

Eric smirked and tightened his grip on Kyle's wrists and Kyle winced. "That's good," Eric said, rolling his hips forward and pressing his now obvious boner against Kyle's stomach. "I think I prefer it that way."

The look on Eric's face was sickening and Kyle twisted wildly under his weight, feeling the back of his throat contract nastily every time he felt Cartman's cock against his waist. "Cartman, let me go. I'll give you the fucking money if you want, just get off me."

He tugged on his hands and realised what a mistake that was when Eric's grip tightened to the point of cutting off circulation. He groaned painfully as Eric leaned in closer, turning his head away from the hot, Cheesy Poof-smelling breath. "Oh, I don't want your Jew money, Kyle," he said, and Kyle shuddered as Cartman rocked his hips again and moaned into his face. "This is so much more fun than a laser gun."

Kyle pulled a face as he tried to squirm up and out from under Cartman's thighs, trying to move away from the boner rubbing sickeningly against his stomach. He could feel his lunch from earlier trying to make a bid for freedom and he gave another tug on his wrists, wincing when fat fingers ground flesh against bone.

"You're a sick bastard, Cartman," he hissed, but Eric only smiled.

"Don't pretend you don't like it, Kyle," he said, grinning smugly as if he were some sort of genius. Kyle scowled.

"I'm not pretending anything. You're a sick, disgusting, fucked up bastard and I hate you."

Cartman moaned again and closed his eyes and Kyle wriggled and struggled to try and escape the thrusting that was steadily building in momentum. His eyes snapped to the door, though, when the landing floorboard creaked and his mom's unmistakable footsteps grew louder along the hall. He looked back at Eric who had obviously heard it, too, because before Kyle could even think to call out, Eric had brought Kyle's pinned wrists together, trapped them in one hand and clapped his other tightly over Kyle's mouth.

Kyle frowned and glared silently up at Eric as Eric watched the door. The footsteps stopped outside and there was a knock.

"Everything okay in there, bubby?" came Sheila's voice through the door. "You boys having fun?"

"Yes, Mrs. Broflovski," called Eric in his sweetest, most obviously fake voice. "Me and Kyle are having a great time."

Kyle mumbled behind Eric's hand and Eric used his thumb and index finger to pinch Kyle's nose closed, cutting off his air supply and stifling any attempt at sound. Kyle's eyes widened and he struggled harder, trying to turn his head away from Cartman's hand so he could breathe.

"Alright then. You two carry on."

The footsteps moved away from the door, along the landing and down the stairs.

Kyle could feel his chest start to burn as he continued to struggle, his temples throbbing as he fought for air behind Cartman's sweaty palm. It was only when he thought he was about to pass out that Eric removed his hand and Kyle took the biggest breath he'd ever taken in his life.

"You crazy fucking shit," he gasped, furious, struggling harder and feeling every muscle in his body start to ache from exertion. "You almost killed me."

"I know," Eric replied, grinning. "Very nice, too. Let's do it again."

Kyle turned his head, but Eric's hand was over his mouth and nose again and all he could do was try and get away. He could feel Eric thrusting against him again, rutting like some pathetic, homeless dog against a trashcan and grunting disgustingly as he moved. Kyle turned his head from side to side, trying to dislodge Eric's hand, but it was so big it covered half of his face, and so sweaty that it almost stuck to him like glue. He could see blue spots flash in the corners of his eyes as he tried to inhale through flesh, struggling and thrashing wildly as his chest tried to implode on itself.

"This is so hot, Kyle… I could totally kill you right now," Eric grunted, leaning closer again and grinning manically into Kyle's face. Kyle tried to speak, to plead with Eric to let him breathe, but he couldn't even mumble. His eyes roamed wildly in his head and, as before, just when he thought he was about to pass out, Eric's hand was gone and Kyle was breathing as if he'd never breathed before in his life.

His chest heaved as he gasped for much-needed oxygen and he could feel the corners of his eyes sting as he continued to struggle. "For… for fuck's sake..." he panted, hearing the strain in his voice. "Stop!"

Eric kept rutting, smiling happily to himself for a few moments, before pulling a horrible, pained-looking face and falling forward to groan loudly into Kyle's neck. Kyle grimaced and turned his head, feeling physically sick. The grip on his wrists didn't loosen at all, and all he could do was wait until Eric sat up and grinned down at him. "Okay, Kyle," said Eric, shrugging. "I'll stop now."

Kyle scowled. "I swear, Cartman… I'll murder you in your sleep."

Eric laughed and gave Kyle's wrists a painful squeeze. "No you won't. You'll just keep hating me and doing nothing about it because you can't afford to lose the only friends you've got. It's kind of sad, really."

Kyle felt his cheeks heat up and he clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes and feeling his body tremble all over with rage.

"You'll come into class tomorrow and you won't say anything, because you know no one will believe you."

"I hate you!"

Eric smiled. "Yes."

They looked at each other for a while, then Cartman let go of Kyle's wrists and stood up, looking angrily down at the stain soaking through the front of his pants. Kyle sat up and shuffled back until he was sitting up against the dresser, glaring at Cartman as he straightened up his hat and made his way towards the door.

He opened it and stepped onto the landing before turning back. "Oh, and Kyle?" he said. "I'll be expecting my five bucks tomorrow."


End file.
